Explore "Anthem for Doomed Youth" by Wilfred Owen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle / Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, / Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs --
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; / And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes / Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; / Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, / And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.